


train like you fight

by Mrs_Patterson



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Backstory, Blood and Injury, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M, Medical Procedures, Military Training, Spetsnaz (Special Forces)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26390638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Patterson/pseuds/Mrs_Patterson
Summary: Tachanka finally finds a way to get to know Team Rainbow's new CBRN specialist, Lera 'Finka' Melnikova.Finka usually likes to keep people at a distance so it's quiet a surprise to learn about her past.BONUS: We learn how Finka got her scar in Spetsnaz training and who got Finka her infamous haircutPLUS: Fuze is reckless and Glaz is a cutie, all in the name of comradeship
Relationships: Lera "Finka" Melnikova/Alexsandr "Tachanka" Senaviev
Kudos: 9





	train like you fight

Tachanka was used to the fact that Finka got so caught up in her work that she usually didn’t call it a day on time. Today was no exception, the young neuroscientist was nowhere to be seen. The tall Russian remembered vividly that she told him about a new approach to improve her nanobots during one of her rare breaks from the lab. But despite having listened carefully and having been attentive during her lecture about the effects of endogenous protein on the human brain he had to admit that he didn’t quiet catch up. When Finka was first introduced to Tachanka he was immediately intrigued by the stern woman with the bold haircut and serious expression. Even more so when he heard that she had close relations to the Spetsnaz and they shared some acquaintances. But apart from that, they had merely spoken. From what Tachanka had heard about the young woman, that was nothing out of the ordinary. She liked to keep to herself and focus on her work. Not that Tachanka wouldn’t love to get to know her better, but Dr. Melnikova, as she was called by most on Team Rainbow, proved to be just as obsessed with her work as their French medic, known as Doc. Tachanka’s close friend Thatcher had finally taken pity on him and let him know where their newest addition to the team spend her free time: in the gym. That was all the information he had needed and so he mustered up his courage and decided to wait for the younger neuroscientist after her office hours. Maybe a little training session would break the ice and give them some time to get to know each other.

In the past few weeks Finka had finally managed to add a few personal items to her office at Hereford Base. Her colleagues had been quite pleased with this development, as it was an indicator that she was settling in. Especially Doc hummed contently, when he saw the first photographs appear on her desk and in the book shelf and since then the collection had grown to some extent. Tachanka grabbed one of the framed pictures from the shelf and inspected it closely. It was a picture of a longhaired woman in a gorka suit, her auburn hair falling over her shoulder in a long, French braid. Tachanka frowned, for a moment he wondered whether he was looking at a photo of Finka’s sister, but then he remembered being told that she was the only person in her family serving in the military. He looked at the picture again but found it rather hard to wrap his mind around the idea that Lera Melnikova used to have long hair. It made her whole appearance way softer, she really looked like a different person. While he held the frame and inspected the photograph, another picture caught his attention. Hidden behind other frames there was another photograph and Tachanka was surprised to see more than one familiar face. He carefully put the frame back on the shelf and took out the photograph from the back. It was a selfie, obviously taken in a Russian military facility and it showed Finka together with his friend Glaz, the unit’s sniper. In this photograph he recognized the young woman from Belarus immediately. Her auburn hair was short, the sides of her head shaved to maybe 1 or 2 mm. On a second glanced he realized that her face was covered in surgical band aids from brow to cheek. He held the frame closer to inspect the new found detail in the picture. Finka’s voice startled the Russian defender. “Believe it or not, these two pictures were taken 24 hours apart”.

The moment his knife met with her skin Kapkan knew that he had made a horrible mistake but it was too late. The blade of his standard issued army knife cut through Finka’s skin and covered him in a fine spray of blood. His female opponent stared at him in disbelief for merely a second before she brought her hand to her split eyebrow. She winced at the touch and let her hand follow the gash that covered the whole side of her face. She looked down at her hand but instinctively knew that she was bleeding before she saw her left hand covered in her own blood. Finka dropped her knife to the ground and lunged forward. With a guttural cry she slammed her instructor to the ground. Kapkan went down and Finka landed on top of him. She lashed out in blind anger and received a satisfying crunch when her fist connected with Kapkan’s nose. She went for his face a few more times and managed to cause some bruises and lacerations before Kapkan started to push her away. But Finka was not ready to give up just yet and fueled by pain and anger she landed a few more hits. The crunching sound of Kapkan’s breaking ribs got lost in Finka’s screaming and trashing .The group of Spetsnaz members and recruits that had surrounded their close quarter combat training took a few steps back, some looking more shocked than others. It took a few seconds until two special forces members emerged from the group and dragged the still flailing and yelling recruit away from her instructor. 

Kapkan was left on the ground panting. Another Spetsnaz member called Fuze offered a hand to help him get up but he was quick to refuse and shooed his hand away. Kapkan managed to get up on his own – though not as swiftly as had hoped for. He did his best to regain his composure and breathe through the sharp pain radiating from his rib cage. He spit on the ground and used the back of his hand to wipe away some of the blood that had cumulated under his nose. He found himself still surrounded by his comrades and they watched in unison as three people make their way towards the nearest building. Two men were leading his still flailing recruit away from the training ground. Her most striking features were her long red hair braided down over her shoulder and the fact that her face and combat suit was completely covered in fresh, bright red blood.

By the time the two Spetsnaz soldiers had lead Lera to the building, her knees were weak and there was basically no vision left in her left eye. She was guided into a small room and harshly put onto a stretcher before the two soldiers left. Her legs still felt like jelly and the pain radiating hot from her face was increasing with every shaky breath. The blood running from her forehead and split eyebrow was already beginning to clot in her eyelashes.   
Lera looked around as she sat on the stretcher alone. The room was filled with an antiseptic smell that probably emerged from the only cupboard in the room. The only other item in the room was a sink whose green matched the walls perfectly. Lera had hoped that there would be a mirror but the walls were as barren as the rest of the room. She gripped the edge of the stretcher tightly with both hands and another wave of pain rush through her whole body. She bit back some tears and looked down at her shoes which she realized was a bad idea immediately when another spurt of blood dripped on her trousers, her combat boots and the floor. She took a deep breath, put her head back and leaned against the wall behind her. 

The adrenaline had worn off and flooded her head with all different kinds of ugly what ifs. Her main concern was actually not passing selection after having been through so much in the past weeks. The more she thought about it the more likely it appeared that she would be thrown out. If not for her outburst of rage and assaulting her instructor then probably because she lost vision in her left eye. Thinking about this gave her goosebumps and she felt the strong urge to throw up. Panic rose as she had to face the fact that she might never be able to see properly again. This might end her career as a neuroscientist let alone affect her whole life. Just as the young woman thought she would be overwhelmed by another surge of anxiety the door flung open and was closed as quickly as it had been opened.

Lera looked at the soldier who had just entered the room. She had seen him a few times during training sessions and throughout the selection process. From what she had heard his name was Timur and he was supposed to master a sniper rifle perfectly. But as far as she knew he was not a doctor. He walked straight up to Lera and tilted her head with both hands. “Let me look at this” the young soldier commanded. He turned her head towards the ceiling light and made a quick assessment of her injury. “How bad is it?” Lera asked shakily.   
Glaz drew a smartphone from his pocket, held it right into Leras face and the next second she was blinded by the flashlight. He held the phone to her and unceremoniously told her “It’s this bad” but ultimately pulled the phone away before Lera could take a look at it. Timur shrugged. “Sorry, no kids gloves, we don’t have much time.” Taking another look at Lera’s face he directed her to the sink and had already opened the water tap. “We need to rinse your eye, can you even see me?”

To say that things were happening really fast would be an understatement. Timur had already placed Lera on the stretcher again and told her rather unaffected “Your eye is fine. It was glued shut with clotted blood” and went straight for the cupboard. Glaz assembled the equipment he deemed useful when Lera finally had the courage to speak up to the special force unit member and demanded answers: “What are you doing? And where is the doctor?” Glaz turned around and got closer to Lera. “The doctor is on his way to you but right in this moment he has to take a look at Kessikbayev because he sustained an injury during close combat training with a knife…”, Glaz said calmly, stretching every word to make sure that Lera got him. “But… But everybody was fine when I left. Kessikbayev didn’t have an injury…”, Lera declared rather puzzled. “Yeah, well, he has one now and he needs medical attention”, Glaz declared quite pleased with himself. “And as long as Dr. Abramov is taking care of Kessikbayev, we’ll have a few minutes to sort this out.” He handed Lera a flask which gained him a disbelieving stare but he was not having it. “Now!”, he barked and to her own surprise Lera obeyed and hastily downed a few gulps. The vodka did nothing to calm her lacerated lip and Lera couldn’t stop herself from shaking her head in pain and disgust. “Wait, have you done this before?”, Lera asked, still wide-eyed. “And why are you doing this?” Timur huffed. He was the experienced one here. “Listen, I’m in this a little longer than you are. I know the doctor on duty. Abramov is a butcher. His sutures are stuporous and I don’t want you to look like you got out of a chainsaw massacre for the rest of your life.” He opened a small cardboard box and grabbed a curved needle with medical suture thread already attached to the end. “Now let me fix this”


End file.
